Sitting alone in this cabin at night probably would be actually very enjoyable if I weren't such a baby, pacing the halls and cringing with every tick from the big clock cornered by the door.
The phone keeps ringing, but upon answering it, I am met with a dial tone. As I try to call out, an operator informs me that my own phone line has been disconnected.
I do my best to believe it each time until it mysteriously rings again.
It kills me to admit that I know the story of the one armed man isn't true, but I still half expect to have him come crashing through the sliding glass doors in the absense of my family. It also kills me to admit that I've been calling around, looking for somebody to stay on the phone with me long enough to allow my stomach to settle. Nobody is answering though so I'll either sit here until I get over all of this, or shit my pants... one of the two.
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